


If You Liked It...

by Damalia (Achrya)



Series: Justice League AU [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Dorks, Kissing, Language, M/M, Marco puts up with a lot, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-03 22:53:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6630340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Achrya/pseuds/Damalia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Marco is the Flash, Jean is Green Lantern, and after months working together Marco isn't sure if they're just really good friends or flirting really really hard. Also Jean is sort of a mess. </p><p>  <em>How did he explain to someone in Trost that their son had been shot while he’d been saving people from flooding in Jinae? That he really couldn’t be two places at once, was only a man with two arms and good intentions and yes, superspeed.</em></p><p>  <em>“You can’t save everyone.” He said quietly, not entirely sure if he was talking to Lantern or himself. Amber eyes stared at him flatly.</em> </p><p>  <em>“Doesn’t mean I shouldn’t have done more.”</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	If You Liked It...

**Author's Note:**

> The title is a not at all hidden 'Single Ladies' reference. (Cause Green Lantern. Power Ring.) 
> 
> This is the Jean and Marco intro to my Justice League AU. There's a Mikannie part too, the events of which are mentioned here, as well. It's all working up to something bigger. Eventually.

“Let me get this straight: you’re out in the desert doing your top secret military thing,” Marco said, grinning as he pushed the vegetables in the wok around. “And you see some alien ship pass overhead and crash into a cliff face-”

“Unidentified vehicle presumed to be alien in origin, Class 2.” Jean corrected primly, but the smile on his face let Marco know he was joking. “Officially.”

It was still a little weird to see Jean like this, a person instead of a mask and glowing ring, even though it had been months since he'd first seen the other man's face. Not that he was that different out of the mask and yet it was completely different to have him in his apartment, nursing a beer while barefoot in jeans and t-shirt with Live Long and Prosper scrawled across a silhouette of a Vulcan’s face (Marco was pretty sure there was a joke there but maybe Jean was just that big a nerd. It wasn’t like he was in a position to judge the latter). They’d hung out a few times now and it was, against all possible odds, fun. Jean was easy going under all the smirking and tendency to take things too seriously and they shared a fondness for bad horror and sci-fi movies and TV shows.

And it wasn’t like either of them had any friends they could really be themselves with.

It was...refreshing to not have to lie about the bruises, scrapes, and scars or make up excuses about where he had to go because Captain Cold was trying to rob STAR labs. Again. In fact Jean not only didn’t have to be lied to but would eagerly suit up and come along.

For better or worse.

Tonight, however, they were hoping for peace, stir-fry, a plate of cookies Jean’s mother had sent along, and a Quantum leap marathon that Jean was almost disturbingly excited for.

“Officially.” Marco echoed while rolling his eyes. “Of course. Wouldn’t want to mess that up.”

“It’s very serious.” Jean didn’t look like he was taking it that seriously. “The military has very specific categories for these sorts of things.”  

He couldn’t picture Jean as being some dour military type just a few years ago but, then, he wouldn’t have pictured himself where he was a few years ago either. From high school rugby player and chemistry fan to college student with a tendency to get wrapped up in campus protests and become obsessed with any and every ‘cause’ that crossed his path to ‘superhero’ who worked in a police crime lab by day?

No, he hadn’t seen any of that coming at all.

“Sure. So you, naturally, abandoned your post to investigate like some stupid teenager in a horror movie.”

Marco watched Jean try to hide his ever growing smile behind another sip of his nearly empty beer. “Maybe I went to investigate because of everything I’ve learned from horror movies. Don’t judge my methods.”

“Never. But you get to this ship, that turns out to be an escape pod, and pry it open with no idea of what was inside. And then-” He said, flicking his wrist to stir the vegetables again.

He let go of the pan, leaving it a few inches above the stovetop, to zip to the counter to grab the chicken he’d had Jean slice up and another beer from the cooler Jean had brought. He yanked away the bottle Jean was holding, replaced it with the freshly opened on, and returned to the stove to catch the handle of the pan before it hit the stove top.

“There turned out to be a red skinned alien leaking black blood everywhere.”

It was sort of disappointing that Jean didn’t even blink at his displays of speed anymore. He just took another drink then frowned down at the glass bottle. “Is this my third beer? Are you trying to get me drunk?”

“Yes.” Marco deadpanned. “And then I plan to do the absolutely most disgusting things I can think of to you.”  

He frowned slightly once the words were out. He was never sure if they were just joking or flirting and how far was too far with Jean.

“Okay. Just checking.” Another sip and then Jean was leaning forward on his stool, licking beads of moisture his top lips (Marco was only slightly ashamed at being unable to keep himself from watching the way the other man’s tongue swept up and then vanished back into his mouth) before continuing. “The alien’s blood was blue, not black. Weren’t you listening at all?”

Considering that Jean had taken thirty minutes to tell the story and that Marco occasionally had an attention problem (thinking at superspeed made it difficult to focus to slowly meandering stories) it was possible he’d missed a detail or two.

“And that ring,” He gestured to the one on Jean’s hand and fingers were wiggled at him in response. “Flew off of the alien’s finger and scanned you with, of course, some weird green light. It then declared you worthy and jumped onto your hand. The alien, with his dying breath, declared you the Lantern of Earth because of your ability to overcome fear and your strength of will.”

“It was actually because I respect fear and understand it’s place in the world but refuse to let it rule me.” Jean’s elbows were on the counter now and he was watching Marco through his lashes.

Marco was fairly certain some one-sided eye sex was happening. ...maybe not entirely one sided before he found himself leaning over the island to meet Jean’s gaze and whisper softly.

“That is exactly what I said, Jean.”

“It really isn’t.”  

It really was.

“Anyway. The military shows up, you get a ‘bad feeling’ and decide not to say anything. Three days later more guys with green rings show up and abduct you and then you spend a year in space trying to prove that you’re actually worthy of the ring. And when you did that they sent you back to Earth to work and you’ve been awol since then which is why you haven’t gone back to the military..” Jean nodded. “I don’t believe you.”

Jean drew back, the picture of offense. “Excuse me?”

“I met you when you’d first gotten back to Earth and you were a mess. There is no way that a _year_ before that a semi-sentient ring determined you were the perfect guy to wield unimaginable power that depends on how stubborn you’re feeling.” He shook his head. “And then you want me to believe a year of training happened before you showed up? Again, a total mess.”

“I,” Jean said as he pointed the top of his beer bottle at him. “Have always been a totally competent hero. Jerk.”

Marco quirked an eyebrow. “Really?”

—

Marco ran tight circles around Firefly, forcing himself to move faster and faster. The man was still trying to hit him with the spray from his flame thrower, heedless of the fact the flames were being caught in the vortex Marco was causing and carried up by a wind funnel harmlessly into the air.

Harmless assuming there were no unfortunate birds up there. And the heat would maybe mess with the weather a little but, ultimately, better than letting Firefly try to hold up a bank and threaten to set downtown Jinae on fire. If Firefly had been less of a douchebag, say the sort who didn’t hold up banks, he probably would have given it up already.

Persistence was a trait Marco had found criminals seemed to have in spades and, unfortunately, it was usually inversely related to their intelligence. The further they were from winning the more intent on not giving up they became. Up against someone who runs literally too fast to be seen by the human eye with just a flame thrower? Turn up the gas and hold down the button! How could that go wrong?

He was pretty sure his hair was getting a little singed. Avoiding the flames wasn’t hard but the heat was very much still there, licking at his skin uncomfortably. His plan was to just keep running until Firefly had depleted all of his fuel and then drag him down to the nearest police station. He could have just taken the gun and fuel canisters, probably, but he wasn’t sure if Firefly had it rigged to blow up or something annoying like that. It was a solid plan considering the uncertainty, with minimal risk of property destruction or injury to either of them (Firefly was a jerk but Marco still preferred a non-violent approach when he could).

It probably would have worked if, suddenly, a glowing green wall hadn’t started rising up from the ground. From his perspective it was a slow moving thing, inching up to form a bubble around Firefly. He skidded to a stop, blinking bemusedly as the world speed up to normal speeds the the bubble was suddenly moving much faster. It cut the flamethrower in half, narrowly missing taking off Firefly’s fingers with it, and then sealed perfectly smooth above the man’s head.

It lifted up, looking a bit like a traffic light green soap bubble…with an angry pyromaniac wobbling around inside. Firefly looked bewildered, pushing his protective mask down in order to gape open mouthed.

“All that running looked tiring.” A voice from overheard declared. Marco glanced up and just barely resisted the urge to sigh at loud at the sight of a man hovering in the air above him.

Other people with abilities were falling out of the woodwork these days. First had been the animal guy in Mitras, then the woman in Trost (the supposed alien with the red cape.) and the weird chick with the sword and a rumor of a bad attitude. They’d taken out some big bad together in Mitras a few months back and, much to his dismay, his own exploits had suddenly become national news as people speculated on the ‘Blur/Streak/Really fast guy’ in Jinae and if he was part of that little team. Freaks on the other side of the law had followed his newfound fame.

He hated it.

Before that he’d been mostly under the radar, just a local guy who dealt with things at high speed and had the appreciation, though not endorsement, of the police. But now there were freaks of the week showing up all the time, more than human cops could deal with, threatening people way more than just a dude with a gun could. He didn’t appreciate the threats to his city or that they were a result of people seeing him out. He was just trying to do the right thing and it was backfiring in a large way.

And now this shit. Someone else, in his city. The man was glowing like a big green nightlight, seemingly effortlessly hanging fifteen feet in the air, and dressed in skintight black from foot to mid-chest, where everything abruptly became a dark green all the way to mid-throat. Matching green gloves, a green domino mask, messy ash brown hair, and a tasteful amount of stubble completed the look. His eyes were an unnatural green, flowing just like the rest of him, but for all that oddness his arrogant smirk was something Marco had been seeing on jerks his whole life.

“Really?” Marco asked, attention going back to Firefly who was banging on the side of the bubble frantically. “You think someone with superspeed gets tired while running?”

The man blinked and, for a moment, looked faintly embarrassed. But then he shrugged and slowly floated closer to the ground. “Is that how you say thank you around here?”

“Thank you?” Marco asked, unable to keep the disbelief out his voice.

“You’re welcome.” The man grinned cheekily.

Marco’s eye twitched. “I was trying to exhaust his fuel before I took him in. He makes it himself using jet fuel and a mixture of high volatile chemicals and he’s former Trost bomb squad. If he’d been set up to have something explode if the gun or pack was tampered with-”

“The bubble would have contained it.” The man said dismissively.

Would.

Would have.

Would have contained it?

“What about Firefly? Would he have survived the ‘containing’?”

Another shrug. “Does it matter?”

Marco was going to punch him in his face. “Yes! Killing people isn’t how we do stuff ‘around here’. I don’t know who you are or where you’re from-”

“Green Lantern number 1537, charged with protection of the Earth Quadrant.” There was a distinctly smug tilt to his smile. “It’s sort of a giant intergalactic police force, getting in and handling outside threats that the…local guys can’t.”

Going to punch him at full speed.

Half speed.

Quarter speed, maybe. He looked like maybe he had a nice face under that mask and even half-speed would crush bone.  

“This is actually a little beneath what we do normally but I was passing by and it looked like you could use the help.”

Half speed.

“How nice of  you.” Marco pushed out through clenched teeth. “You must do this kind of thing all the time then?”

‘Lantern’ nodded eagerly. “Oh yeah. All over the universe, of course. I just helped out with a little rebellion in the Sangtee galaxy. All sorts of rioting and such, so rounding up some little guys is nothing.”

“Question.” Marco said, looking past ‘Lantern’ to the man trapped in the glowing green bubble. Firefly was slumped against the sides of the bubble, lips a concerning shade of blue, eyes fluttering and chest just barely rising and falling. “Can he breathe in there?”

“What? Of co…Shit!”

—

Watching Jean blush really was one of the most oddly endearing things about the other man. He went red all the way to the tips of his ears and down his neck and under his collar. Marco occasionally entertained thoughts of seeing just how far down the flush could do.

“That was…an exception.”

Marco snorted. “You were an idiot.”

Jean smiled broadly, the exactly opposite of the reaction Marco was expecting. “’Were’? So you admit I’m better now.”

“I don’t think that’s what I was saying at all.” But it was absolutely true. It had taken a little time for Jean to...mellow out and to stop hiding the fact that he was, apparently, terrified of the ring (which wasn’t unreasonable. The responsibility and danger that came with it weren’t inconsiderable) but was too determined to just back down and go back to a life of easy safety.

There had come a point where Marco had been forced to grudgingly admit that, while a little rough around the edges and perhaps prone to losing his temper and relying a little too much on the ring to smooth out the bumps, Jean was nothing if not dedicated to helping people.

Maybe a little too dedicated.

\---

Marco watched, open mouthed, as Lantern continued to hold the barrier around the burning warehouse. The flames were slowly dying, smothered by lack of oxygen, and it was...an impressive display. It was a big building, taking up nearly the entire block, and from what Marco had seen while he’d been inside looking for survivors it had been full of drugs and chemicals, which were about the worst things to mix with fire in his experience.

It could have been worse, a lot worse, than what it was. Marco might have been the fastest man in the world but he wasn’t psychic and he hadn’t known about the fire in Sina City until he’d seen it on the news and by then-

His eyes darted over to the covered bodies on the sidewalk for a second and then he was back to watching Lantern glare at the building, teeth bared and eyes glowing brighter than he’d ever seen. The ring he wore, the thing that the constructs he made came from, was swallowed up in it’s own light, invisible in the brightness. The dome around the warehouse was huge and solid, not a single crack or tremble and not even smoke was getting loose.

Lantern was single handedly containing a blaze that the fire department had been advised against even getting close to.

Water wouldn't have done the job and he had no idea how long it would have taken him to find enough foam or powder to smother everything. A vortex, maybe, to suffocate it like Lantern was doing but it would have been a lot of work after ferrying survivors and bodies, even for him.

It wasn’t that the other hero was making it look easy, because he had sweat pouring off his him, his face was a grimace of pain, and frankly he looked like he was about to collapse at any moment, but he was _doing_ it. Marco had come stumbling out of the building, finally empty handed, and the dome had come down right behind him and Lantern hadn’t moved or spoken since.

This was a vastly different person than the sarcastic, arrogant, and sort of annoying person Marco had run into over the past few months.

Marco tore his eyes away to take in the soot covered faces and wide eyes of the people who’d been in the building, squatters mostly, all bathed in neon green light.

When it was done, when it was all just char and smoke but the flames were dead, the dome flickered out of existence. The light around Lantern flickered as well then went out and then were was a man in jeans and sweatshirt falling through the air.

It was literal slow motion to Marco, who’d been spending time moving the survivors further away to where the emergency vehicles were waiting and giving a statement to the cops about what he’d seen inside, and he caught the other man easily.

He was pale and visibly tired but he was pushing at Marco’s chest almost as soon as he was in his arms. Marco noticed that his eyes were a warm amber now, all trace of green washed away, and he was...not bad looking. Long angular face, nice lips when they weren’t smirking at him, long lashes-

Not that he was checking him out or anything. There was a time and a place for that and this was not it.

Probably not it.

“I’m fine.” Lantern muttered when he finally got Marco to lower him to his feet. He waved a hand and, while Marco once again gaped in shock, the air tore in front of them to reveal a softly glowing green lantern hanging in inky darkness. “I’m just drai- oh.”

Lantern had started to reach for the...other lantern, and Marco was on the verge of asking a million questions because what the fuck, an actual tear in space opening up a pocket dimension, he had a friend who’d written a thesis on the possibility, but now the other man was looking to the side. Marco followed his gaze then cringed when he realized it was on the covered bodies.

He was going to take them to the emergency workers next. The living had taken precedence and- Well. It didn’t matter. It was an ugly scene no matter what.

He turned back to see Lantern biting his lower lip, eyes narrowed in clear anger at the ground. Marco shifted on his feet then, carefully, patted the other man on the shoulder.

“You know that’s not your fault, right? I’m guessing you saw this on the news like I did.”

“I know it’s not my fault.” Lantern shrugged his hand away with a glare. “I just...don’t like pointless death.” (Marco was tempted to point out that Lantern had seemed fine with maybe blowing Firefly up the first time they’d met but thought better of it almost instantly.)”What’s the point of all this power if people still die for no reason?”

A question Marco asked himself a lot. More than ever now, with the world just getting crazier and crazier every time he turned around. He hadn’t figured it all out yet, or any of it really. Why him? What was the point? Was he actually going any good? Just making things worse because now he had enemies, people who were willing to hurt and destroy just to gain his attention so they could try and be the ones who’d killed the Flash.

How did he explain to someone in Trost that their son had been shot while he’d been saving people from flooding in Jinae? That he really couldn’t be two places at once, was only a man with two arms and good intentions and yes, superspeed

“You can’t save everyone.” He said quietly, not entirely sure if he was talking to Lantern or himself. Amber eyes stared at him flatly.

“Doesn’t mean I shouldn’t have done more.”

\---

Marco frowned a little at the memory as he sat next to Jean on the couch. Jean cared, which was what made him good at what he did, but he cared so much that Marco worried about him.

“Anyway, how did you end up like this?” Jean, oblivious to his thoughts, asked as he swung his feet up into Marco’s lap. Personal space seemed to be a concept that Jean a very tenuous, at best, grasp on.

Marco forced a smile. “Smart, devastatingly handsome, and fantastic in the-” Jean’s eyebrows went up so high they were practically part of his hairline. “Kitchen?”

A slow blink of gleaming green eyes. “The superspeed.”

“Of course.” Marco had figured as much, since Jean had told his story, but...well, it wasn’t something he’d ever told to anyone. At first because it was just too off the wall to consider sharing and then because he hadn’t wanted anyone else wrapped up with what he was doing. He had an older sister who had a family of her own and there was no doubt in his mind the nutjobs who came after him would use her to get at him if they could.

But Jean wasn’t going to be doing any of that. He’d been the first to share his real name, the first to suggest they hang out, and hadn’t thought anything of introducing him to his mother (who was a lovely, if not intense and very involved, woman who clearly loved her son more than anything else in the world). And, really, once you’d met a man’s mother there was no good reason to hesitate on explaining his ‘accident’.

“I was working with a professor of mine on some research when a summer electrical storm came through town. The professor had to leave to check on another lab so it was just me in there. The window was open and lightening sort of came in through the window and hit the chemical cabinet and basically superheated all of the glass while electrifying the chemicals so everything shattered and..poured...on” He stopped, considering Jean’s increasingly incredulous look. “What?”

“You just happened to be alone in a lab during an electrical storm and lightning just happened to come in _through the window_ to electrify just the right combo of chemicals-”

“You know, electrified superheated chemicals actually really hurt. I still have scars on my back.” Marco muttered as he flicked at Jean’s ankle. He had the teasing coming after giving Jean grief, no doubt, but at the same time it was one of his worst memories. It sounded funny but he’d never felt pain like it before or since. “I was in the hospital for weeks. I know it's not as impressive as dying aliens and space cop training or anything.”

Jean’s mouth shut with an audible click. Silence fell around them, not exactly uncomfortable but not as easy as it usually was, then Jean flopped back so his head was against the arm of the couch. He lifted a hand and his ring flared to life.

Marco twisted around to watch as a disembodied green hand scrambled over the floor in a manner reminiscent of Thing from Addams Family (which was probably exactly Jean’s intention), jumped onto the kitchen island, and grabbed the plate of cookies before floating back to them. The plate was dropped into Jean’s hands and the hand blinked out of existence.  

Marco was used to Jean’s odder constructs; the man liked big and elaborate things with impressive attention to detail or goofy things if he had the time for them. Hands, little robots, big paper plane like creations...Marco had seen them all crafted just to carry items.

Jean sat up then, brows furrowed, shoved a cookie into his face. Marco stared at it, bemused, then opened his mouth to take a bite. He chewed slowly, watching as Jean slumped back against the arm of the couch.

"You know when I was in space? Training? I only have myself to talk to for a whole year. No humans for a few galaxies and no one who wanted to be bothered talking to me, since they all think we're a stupid baby race prone to tantrums that almost wipe us all out." He muttered, glaring at a spot beyond the TV. "And then I came back here and I can't explain to anyone where I've been or why so all of my old friends pretty much told me to fuck off. Sort of makes me wonder if it was worth it sometimes. So. Space and the space cops aren't always all it's cracked up to be."

That said Jean shoved the rest of the cookie into his own mouth and chewed it like he was offended by it.

Alright then. That was probably an apology in Jean-speak.

He leaned back, draping one arm over Jean’s legs and the other on the arm of the couch on his side, and focused on the TV. His thumb found its way, eventually, to Jean’s ankle. He rubbed small absent circles over bare skin then crept up under Jean’s pants leg to press against his calf. Jean jumped slightly and his toes, painted a iridescent purple, curled. Marco could see his head popping up from the corner of his eye but kept his hand where it was, rubbing firmly, after a moment Jean was relaxing again. At some point the light flicked off, no doubt under Jean’s power, and other than the glow of the TV the brightness of Jean’s eyes was the only light.

The marathon started and, as Jean rattled off random trivia while Marco tried not to laugh at enthusiasm, he snagged another cookie, practically inhaled it, and reached for another. Lucky for him speedster metabolism meant he needed food near constantly so scarfing down half a loaf of chocolate chip banana bread for breakfast wasn’t likely to hurt him any and meant eating Jean’s mother’s baking guilt free. Which was great because her stuff was the fantastic.

He said as much and Jean snickered. “Only the best for you.” Marco hummed questioningly around the finger he was sucking melted butterscotch off of. “She thinks we’re dating so she treats you better than she does me.”

Marco let that bit of information sink in as he polished off another cookie then, pulling his hand back on Jean’s leg, decided he might as well go for broke. They were a little too old for the whole ‘miscommunication’ and ‘are we or aren’t we’ thing.  “Are we not dating?”

He felt Jean stiffen under his palm and watched Jean’s mouth open and then close while he blinked rapidly.

“Uh. I-”

A shriek that sounded like it was coming from right outside of Marco’s apartment, which should have been impossible since he lived on the sixth floor, made them both jump in surprise. Marco jumped up and ran to the window, pushing the curtains aside then sighed. Outside, a few feet from his building, a huge robed figure with a very unhappy looking woman tucked under its arm was flying past.

Typical.

He ran to his bedroom, pulled on his suit, then back out to the couch. He slowed down to normal speeds.

“Flying thing, grabbing people. No operating power rings while under the influence so stay-”

“Like hell.” Jean said, rolling to his feet. “The ring will purge the alcohol.”

“Is that a thing?” Marco pursed his lips, trying to decide if Jean was being honest or just screwing around so he couldn’t get left.

Jean’s shot him a bland look as the dimensional pocket he kept his lantern in opened up. “It’s a thing. Sometimes it even does it without my permission because it thinks I’ve had enough.”

Marco couldn’t even sort of begin to feel a buzz anymore, alcohol being processed by his body before he could begin to feel the effects, so he wasn’t about to shed any tears for Jean’s occasional forced sobriety.

Jean reached into the space tear to press his ring against the front of the lantern. Then cut his eyes over to Marco. “If you laugh this time-”

“I won’t.” He probably would.

Another flat look then Jean spoke, reciting his oath at breakneck speed (but not nearly fast enough for Marco to not clearly hear every word.)

“In brightest day, in darkest night, no evil shall escape my sight. Let those who worship evil’s might, beware my power, Green Lantern’s light!”

The lantern exploded into near blinding light and when it faded Jean was in his uniform and the tear was closed as if it had never been there at all. He shot Marco a look.

Marco snickered then, sensing Jean was about to yell at him grabbed the other man around the waist and winked before taking off. Out of his apartment, down the stairs to the ground level and out into the street to head in the direction the whatever it had been had looked to be going. (he wasn’t worried about catching up, there were very few things that could get away from him.) Jean’s yelped into his ear and arms wrapped around his neck with almost painful tightness.

“The ring will not stop me from puking on you!”

\---

The cloaked thing turned out to be some weird bug on steroids looking thing with wickedly sharp teeth and claws and maybe no eyes (it was hard to tell), sporting some high tech armor and packing a nasty punch. They got the woman free easily enough but trying to take down the whatever it was proved...more difficult and involved a chase all over the city to the basement of some empty parking garage.

Marco wasn’t, in a technical sense, any stronger than the average guy who worked out semi-regularly. What he was, however, was fast and a punch at hundred plus miles per hour? It hurt just about anything. It wasn’t the sort of thing he went around doing a lot of, he really disliked hurting people if he could help it, but when the thing got a hold of Jean, cracking the force field he’d built around himself, and threw him back first into a concrete pillar he forgot about how much he didn’t like doing that sort of thing.

He had to give the thing credit, even when it’s armor shattered under the force of Marco’s first blow it managed to stay on it’s feet. It chittered then, in rough thick english, screeched “Darkseid comes!”

Marco filed that away to think about later.

The second blow, right where it’s helm had cracked apart, had crunching, the feeling of flesh giving way, and a spray of inky purple from it’s mouth and what might have been it’s ears.

He was at Jean’s side before the thing hit the ground, bending over his friend and reaching for him hesitantly, heart in his throat. He was so still, eyes shut and a trickle of blood leaking from his nose. The power ring was dull and the usual glow was gone.  

“Jean?” He touched his shoulder then stopped. What...what was he supposed to do? He knew this, he did, he had emergency response training and first aid training and a whole shit ton of other ‘I work for the police department’ training and he knew what to do

Why didn’t he know what to do?

The ring sparked and fired off a bolt of light that arced up and struck Jean in the chest. For a moment nothing happened and then Jean sat up, inhaling sharply. Marco jerked back in surprise, falling onto his ass. Jean’s eyes flicked over to him then over to the thing and it’s more or less pulped head and then back to Marco.

“Are you going to be upset if I say my back is probably too fucked up for sex now? ...that was where things were headed right? Did I misread that? Because it seemed like you were-”

Marco shoved him hard enough to make him fall back over then followed him down to press their mouths together. Jean hissed but, when Marco started to pull back in alarm, reached up to yank him back forcefully. Jean kissed back hard and eagerly, like he couldn’t bare to wait any longer now that it was happening, licking into his mouth as their lips figured out how to fit together without their teeth clinking and noses bumping.

When breathing became mandatory Jean was smiling so widely it looked like his face might split. “I knew I was right.”

Marco shook his head. “I regret this already.”

The green bleed from Jean’s eyes, leaving warm amber behind. “You do not.”

He didn’t. 

"Think you can get up? I know a guy at STAR labs, Dr. Jaeger, who specializes in alien organics."

Jean frowned. "I thought we were going to make out more." 

Marco glanced over at the thing and it's oozing head. "No." 

"Fucking cockblocking aliens." 


End file.
